THE HARRIS FAMILY and CHESAPEAKE BAY SEAFOOD Part2

easternshorebrent

Harris Crab House's photo.

From 4- 8 pm, on Sunday, December 10, Harris Crab House and Harris Seafood Company are celebrating the 70th Anniversary of W. H. Harris Seafood with a great seafood buffet, along with a presentation of Memories, Stories, and Photos! Reservations Recommended. $35 per person/$70 per couple Call 410-827-9501 to reserve your seats!

wh-harris-seafoodCourtesy Harris Family

Captain Billy Harris’ son Jerry joined the family business, W.H. Harris Seafood, in 1964, but when his dad “wouldn’t pay me enough. I quit him and went back on the water.” Jerry came back a couple years later under a renegotiated financial understanding. Daughter Karen Harris Oertel and her husband Art, the family historian, came aboard in the early 1970s.

grading-crabs-jerry-harriskaren-art-oertel                               Jerry Harris; Karen and Art Oertel, Courtesy Harris Family

Both Harris offspring came up knowing what it meant…

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In the heart v/s mind debate – the heart always wins

Suvarna Academy

I often wondered why do people say ‘My mind says no…but my heart says yes’?

People use this phrase in different context. In sports, when a die-hard fan of a particular team feels his/her team is in a losing position, s/he would typically say ‘My heart says my team will win, but my mind says my team will lose.

Similarly, a die-hard lover whose girl friend walked out would say ‘My heart says she will return to me, but my mind says she won’t.

In most cases, people tend to associate the heart to an outcome what they believe should happen in their favor and the mind is associated with an outcome which is not in their favor.

So, the heart is the hero we love, an outcome we secretly dream and the mind is the villain.

Biologically though, we humans can think only from our brain – the mind. Thinking from…

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Nekomata Cat Ghost (For Erica)

WOW! What a CAT!

Poet Rummager

il_570xN.1212839633_to5a Painting by Erica Borey (koalarazorclock)

I sit up in my *zaisu chair.

Is that you? Are you there?

Shadows flit across the floor.

Blackness hisses, run out the door!

Night has drawn the shades

on another day.

My lap is cold without your fur.

Yet in the corner, I hear you purr.

Transfixed on me, are two eyes of red.

I smile; not caring. I know you’re dead.

For it was me who buried you.

I’d carved the stone and sealed your tomb.

Yes, it was me who laid you to rest

before you’d taken one last breath.

Claws rake deep across my throat,

and before I can even shout,

my detached head slaps on the ground.

Ouch!

In Japan, cats and death go hand in hand. The nekomata cat ghost is said to have the powers of raising the dead. The more abused a cat has been, the more…

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